One Summer in Paris

“I think you look incredible.” Grace leaned down and kissed her grandmother’s cheek. “I have everything ready for French Club. I need to go and help the staff set up, but I wanted to give you this first.” She handed over the macaron box, which she’d tied with a beautiful bow. “I made them.”

“A gift you make yourself is the best gift of all.” Mimi slid her fingers over the silk ribbon. “I had a pair of ballet shoes with ribbon exactly this color.” She opened the box with an enthusiasm that ninety years on the planet hadn’t dimmed. “They look exactly like the ones I used to buy in Paris. They were there in the shop window like jewels. I remember a man once sneaking out of my apartment early in the morning to buy me a box for breakfast—we ate them in bed.”

Grace loved hearing about her grandmother’s colorful past. “What was his name?”

Could Mimi be talking about the man who had made her pregnant?

Grace had tried on numerous occasions to persuade her grandmother to talk about the mysterious man who was her grandfather, but she never would. It was a fling, was all she would say.

As usual, her grandmother was vague. “I don’t remember his name. I only remember the macarons.”

“You’re a wicked woman, Mimi.” Grace took the box from her and closed it. It felt odd to not know anything about her grandfather. Was he even still alive?

“Since when has it been wicked to enjoy oneself? And why are you closing the box? I was about to eat one.”

“You’ll have plenty to eat in French Club. There are more where these came from.”

“I like to enjoy the moment.” Mimi opened the box again and helped herself. She took a delicate bite and closed her eyes. “If you focus on living well in the moment, you will never have regrets about yesterday.”

Grace wondered if she was thinking of Paris, or of the man who had brought her macarons in bed. She knew her grandmother had stories she hadn’t shared, and that there were times she didn’t like to think about. Grace understood that. There were times she didn’t li

ke to think about, either.

“Good?”

“Excellent.” Mimi opened her eyes and reached for her coat and a silk scarf. Today’s choice was peacock blue. “How is Sophie?”

“Enraged about the plans to close the animal shelter. She’s writing letters and calling anyone who will pick up the phone.”

“I admire a person who is prepared to stand up and fight for a cause they believe in. Even more so when that person is my great-granddaughter. You should be proud, Grace.”

“I am proud—although I’m not sure the way she is has much to do with me. She has David’s genes.”

Mimi read her mind. “Relax. She has nothing of your mother in her.” She tucked her arm into Grace’s as they stepped out of the apartment onto the covered walkway that led to the main house. “When is Sophie coming to see me?”

“On the weekend.”

“And David?” Mimi’s expression softened. “He popped in yesterday and fixed the broken handle on my door. That man is perfect. He has time for everyone. And did I mention that he gets more handsome by the day? That smile.”

“I know.” She’d fallen in love with David’s smile. “I’m lucky.”

Mimi stopped walking. “No, honey. He’s the one who is lucky. You went through so much and yet you have a family like this—well, I’m proud of you. You’re the glue, Grace. And you’re an excellent mother.”

Her grandmother was her biggest supporter. Grace hugged her in full view of anyone who happened to be watching. It was only when she held her grandmother that she was aware of her frailty. It scared her. She couldn’t imagine a life without Mimi.

“I love you.”

“Of course you do. I’m the buttercream frosting on the stale cake that is life.”

Grace let her go. “Twenty-five years today. Had you forgotten?”

“I have creaking bones and varicose veins, but my memory is fine. I know what day it is. Your anniversary! I am happy for you. Every woman should love deeply at least once in her lifetime.”

“You didn’t. Were you never tempted to get married? Not even when you discovered you were pregnant?”

Mimi flipped the scarf around her neck and slid her arm through Grace’s. “I wasn’t the marrying kind. You, however, always were. I hope you’re wearing your sexiest underwear to celebrate.”

“I refuse to discuss my underwear with you, but I can tell you that I’ve booked dinner. And that’s when I’m giving him his gift.”